


Unravel

by TheStarsHaveAligned



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Feelings, Hope, scrambled thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 02:23:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4122459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStarsHaveAligned/pseuds/TheStarsHaveAligned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If her smile happens in a dream, I never want to wake up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unravel

**Author's Note:**

> Scrambled thoughts written with music. The way my muse works.  
> Saito rambling, in his poetical way.

_There had happened many things between them, but perharps, the moment decisive, the moment when Saito realized he was in love, not when he fell, but the moment he knew that what he felt was love, was when Chizuru stayed with him in that alley and told him she wanted him to live. Him. That his sword had saved her, and that she wanted him to be safe. That was probably when he could put a name to that beating in his heart he had been feeling since she bravely stayed in the Hamaguri gate, since she stood her ground when the demons came to try and kidnap her, when she trusted him to save her from amagiri. He could finally name that feeling. It was love._

  
  
I realized it back then, as she looked at me and I found her eyes beseeching me with a strenght I'd never experienced before. Chizuru's eyes could tell a story without words, a story of struggle and yet hope, and kindness. Because she cared, because she was gentle, but strong, and determined. Her eyes showed me something I hadn't seen in such a long time. Hope. Not hope for battles to come and win, not hope for comrades and achieving goals, not hope for bonding or being accepted. Hope for me. For me to live. There was a person in this world who cared for me on a level like this, and I realized I cared for her too like this, deeply, and beyond the boundaries of comradership and friendship.  
  
I loved her.  
  
I was in love with this woman, strong and gentle, of pure soul and honest eyes, that did not falter as she went back to the Shinsengumi, her last words for me.  


* * *

  
  
Hope was a luxury we could not afford, though.  
  
Because war was raging, flames ignited with hate and old and long arguments between factions, we had not the luxury of spending our time daydreaming of love and disengaging from war.  
  
And yet, even with all this going around us, it grew.  
  
Like a vine climbing and tangling around branches, we found ourselves getting closer and our bond becoming silently but definitely stronger.  
  
And the focus of my pride, of my goal, dramatically shifted when I barely had time to ponder over life and death. Because she could not go, because I could not let her go. I could not betray my heart. By no means.  
  
What was important for me, skills or even my master, those were things that I had left others to decide over me. But her, over her I'd be the one deciding. And not the shinsengumi ordering me to protect her, or her pleas to Kazama to take her and spare me. No. She's not go. I'd protect her. Over my humanity. Over life and death.  
  
Sacrificing such for her seemed little for all I gained. I gained her, I gained time, I bargained humanity and time over her. For her. Not just the Shinsengumi's goal, she became my goal. Being with her. If I died I could not protect her, so I must not die. It was so simple, there was not even a thing to decide after I understood this; of course I'd take the ochimizu, if it was needed of me. It was needed of me because it was to protect her.  
  
I'd protect what was precious to me, with my life.  


* * *

  
  
It claimed me, lured me like a mermaid's chant. Pulsating under her clothes, beating warm life tantalizing my senses and intoxicating my thoughts. Her blood claimed me. And she offered herself to me.  
  
But it was not just her blood I wanted. It was not even that.  
  
All too soon pure feelings of love entangled into something much deeper and started to overwhelm me. Every small interaction, every word we crossed, everytime our eyes met and none refused to hide from the other, everytime she approached me... it became too much. And at the same time, too little.  
  
Because I found it was not enough.  
  
More. I wanted... more.  
  
I wanted her to realise my eyes ravishing her, and make her gasp. I wanted her to look at me in a way that lured me to the hidden places we had never been before. I wanted her voice to command me and I'd obey. I wanted her voice to command me to take her. I wanted her to beg me to touch her.  
  
Touch her. Make her melt under my fingertips, take from her every ounce of innocence and replace them with longing. Kiss her breathless, listen to her sweet affected voice as I made her mine. Just imagining her submitting to me was too much, and yet not enough.  
  
I craved for her. Up until now I didn't even know what to crave for something was. As a samurai, following the bushido was fundamental. I don't know what came first in my life; the impassiveness of my behaviour or the calmness and acceptance of the bushido, but I knew they complemented each other and we suited well. The sword and I, the way of the samurai. I was collected and controlled, I was ruthless when necessary and calm otherwise.  
  
But I met her, and little by little she changed that part of me. She changed me to a point I can't recognize myself. I started to feel strongly, to get angry, and passionate; torn and jealous. I started to get frustrated and confused. Everything I was feeling for the first time. Because of her. For her.  


* * *

  
  
The stars are witness. The dark night is shinning with hope. Hope for her, for me, for us. Hope to get through this, hope to get unscarred. Too much hope in her eyes I fear it will blind me.  
  
She acknowledges me. She understands. She was never scared of my claws mangling her, because I used them to defend her. Because I protected her. Because she trusts me; not to be right, but to get through this.  
  
Hope. Hope is light blinding me and I feel about to cry.  
  
I could let myself go towards this warm light she offers me. It's too much. Too much.  
  
I don't know what to do with these feelings. It's overwhelming... and at the same time exhiliarating. I could lose myself in her, I could give my everything to her, and be anything she wanted me to. And I could because I knew that I would affect her the same way. Never had I seen something so clear in my entire life; that she did not deny anthing from me, and accepted me whole. It was not about being perfect for each other, or being flawless, or even having something to fix. It was the acceptance and capacity to love what and who we were, every inch, every thought, every step no matter where it was directed.  
  
And all my steps lead me to her. We were not wrong, we were not wrong for each other.  
  
And even if we had been, even if the time or the circumstances were against each other, it did not matter. It never mattered. Because she was here, with me. Because she allowed me to keep her by my side. Because she gave her everything to me, and I was hers. Because we were here now, together, I knew I'd not doubt anymore. If she wanted me by her side, I'd never doubt again.  
  
Because all too often, doubt is little more than a poison.  


* * *

  
  
It burns. Burns, burns, burns as if my blood had become foundry iron and melted my insides. It's agonizing, and morphs as seconds tick. The pain morphs, but never decreases. It just changes and varies from time to time. Not worst. It can't be worst than this.  
  
I struggle to keep my voice and body from trembling at the seizure of the bloodlust. The attacks everytime closer in time, until now the pain had become so agonizing as having an organ ripped off from your body with red hot clamps. I know her blood would calm the effects and supress the pain, but I just don't want her to hurt herself for me. So I restrain the thirst as long as I can, keep it and struggle to control it until my own body gives in. Until I can't deny her any longer. Until I accept her, her blood. Her life.  
  
She is so precious to me... so precious.  


* * *

  
I had never seen such a dazzling scene before. Everything is covered in white, as if colors had disappeared from this world, but at the same time the light draws sparks of rainbow on each snowflake as they gracefully fall and melt in the frost. Everything is white around me. Everything is silent. Ethereal. Otherworldly.  
  
But is not the sight of this that leaves me wondering if this is a dream, if this is real. It's her.  
  
Red like a camelia flower dancing before me, her kimono waves around as she swirls and lifts her hands to receive the snowflakes that crown her chocolate hair.  
  
And then our eyes meet and I feel my heart is clamped and released with strenght in each beating, hurting as if it was not used to this rhythm, as if it had been caged for too long, unable to keep up with this world. As if this was too much. As if it was about to explode.  
  
We survived. We are alive, together. In love.  
  
If her smile happens in a dream, I never want to wake up.


End file.
